Private School
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I went to public school. Most people say that private schools are the fanciest schools in the city, and I guess that's true. Everyone thinks that private school is just for wealthy kids, but trust me, any kid, be it rich and popular or not-so-rich and unpopular, go to private school just like me. My sister, Paula, and I go to a private school called Park Avenue Academy. You might think it sounds cool, but let me tell you, private school is tough: bullies, peer pressure, uniforms, and social issues. Paula doesn't mind going to private school, but I often worry that some kids who go to public school might think I'm a total dork. There are a lot of things that make private school different from public school. For instance, while public school kids get to wear cool, casual clothes, I have to wear a lame uniform. I heard that classes at public schools are bigger than the classes at my private school, since there are only nine boys and eight girls in my grade. The teachers in private school are a lot more strict and firm than the teachers at public school, and they punish kids even if they do the slightest thing wrong. Some kids at public school get sent to detention for what we did wrong, but private school kids get worse punishments than that. I find that completely unfair, because I'm not a bad person. I'm a victim of misunderstanding and I tend to act misguidedly. There has already been talk about a few kids transferring to public school this year. I feel like I should transfer to public school, but I don't think my mom would want me to. My parents think that private school is much better than public school, and they're completely vested in the belief that private school is the way to go. What I find so ironic is that some of my classmates think they're so much better than me, when they're actually dorks and dweebs in the eyes of the public school kids. When it comes to the hierarchy of the kids in this town, public always wins. Many kids of the public school crowd rank higher than the coolest of us private school kids. So, when one of my friends from the public school asked me if I could visit their school to see what it's like, I was all in for it. My sister and I were really enthusiastic when Dad drove us to the public school in his Toyota SUV. Paula was alive and giggling like a little child, and I was bouncing in my seat, my body trembling with nervous excitement. "This is gonna be awesome!" I said. "I can't wait to see what public school is like." "Settle down, you two," said Dad. "I know you're excited, but stay still or you'll break the car's seats." I forced myself to sit still, but I just couldn't help how excited I felt. "I can't wait to start public school," I said. "I wonder if the classes are gonna be harder than the ones at private school." "Don't worry about your classes, Alfred," said Dad. "They make sure to keep 'em nice and easy so that all the other kids can keep up. You'll do just fine." He turned the corner, finally bringing the public school into view. Paula and I gazed at it in wide-eyed wonder. I was always awed by just how big the local public school was—though by objective standards, it was actually a bit small, if anything. Maybe a bit smaller than Park Avenue Academy. I had hardly ever even seen the school, despite the years that my dad had worked there—though of course, Dad made it pretty clear that he didn't like his job, and seemed almost irrationally worried about what would happen if I got involved in it. Admittedly, I enjoy being in private school as much as Paula does, and our parents insist it is better for us academically. It had taken a lot of coaxing from me and Paula before our parents had agreed to at least let us try it for a few days. Without even knowing, I began to unconsciously bounce in my seat again, getting more excited the closer we got. "Oh my gosh, I can't believe I'm finally gonna see how public school is like!" I gushed. "I'm so excited! Maybe I'll make some friends who don't mind dorky, uniform-wearing private school kids like me!" Eventually, we pulled into the tiny staff parking lot, which was already filled with cars. "Drat!" said Dad. "One of the darn teachers stole my spot again. Ugh, now I gotta find a new place, get you to your first class, rush back for a parent conference before my first class—" "Um, we can get to class by ourselves," said Paula. "No, no, I'll help you two, I have time..." "Aw, come on, Dad! Please?" I asked as I put my hands together, smiling nervously. I didn't want to come right out and say it, but I was sort of worried that I couldn't manage on my own. For some reason, Dad never seemed to think that I could handle public school—something that I was hoping this public school experiment would help to disprove. Dad paused, giving us a long look. "Well...alright. You have plenty of time if you get lost, at least." The car stopped; Paula and I grabbed our backpacks and jumped out. "But listen, you two—you be careful, alright? I don't want you getting into any trouble." "We won't cause any trouble!" I said as I drew myself up proudly. "We promise." "Yeah, well, I trust you not to cause trouble, but that's not the same thing as not getting into it," said Dad, grimacing. "It's the other kids I'm worried about. Now I'll see you in my class fourth period, okay?" "Okay," I said as my sister and I stepped out of the car. "This is gonna be great!" Paula and I ran off and opened the doors. We couldn't believe what the school looked like. The school was somehow even bigger on the inside. My eyes got wide as I gazed around the vast atrium. It was awe-inspiring; I had seen schools like this on the TV before, but it was totally different to actually be standing there, like I had somehow managed to jump through the screen right into the middle of the show. The floors were so shiny, the hallways were so long. I felt like I was in a dream, I was a kid in a candy store, ready for fresh discoveries. As Paula headed to her first class, I reached into my pocket to take out the class schedule that my dad had gotten for me. As I checked the schedule, I saw that my first class was English II with a teacher named "Mr. Whitcomb." Okay, I'm good at English...or at least, I hope I am. I felt a slight twinge of worry, recalling that I had never managed to read more than three-quarters of the way through Little Women without stopping to goof off in the middle of a chapter—hopefully they wouldn't want to bump me down to English I for that or something. Now all I had to do was find my class. I glanced at the three hallways branching off from the atrium. I decided to take the first corridor in sight. I started down the left corridor, glancing from my schedule to the doors, searching for Room 274. Half an hour later, I had searched through every hallway and still hadn't found it. By this time, the buses had already pulled up and kids were crowding into the hallways. I was starting to get nervous—everybody else was moving around so effortlessly, jumping from their locker to their friends' lockers and darting in and out of classrooms, and here, I felt hopelessly lost, having passed just about every class number except the one I was looking for. I wasn't used to feeling so confused—it hadn't even occurred to me to find my locker yet, and my backpack was really starting to make my shoulders ache. I was sweating profusely from both physical and mental strain. I glanced at the clock. My schedule said that I had five minutes before my class started. "Hmm", I thought. "I think I should ask somebody." I glanced around, and I saw more and more people disappearing into their classrooms, leaving the hallway mostly empty. I searched for someone who wasn't either already talking to someone or rushing to their room, settling on a girl sorting through her locker. I came up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. "Um, excuse me?" The girl turned around, giving me a funny look. "Yeah?" "I was just wondering where Room 274 is." "Room 27...you mean Mr. Whitcomb's class?" "Yeah, that's the one!" "Yeah, that's sort of a weird—see that hall over there by the stairs?" "Yeah?" "Okay, well, go down there towards the cafeteria, then—" She was suddenly cut off when her locker slammed shut—I jumped and turned to see a tall guy standing over me, glaring at me. He poked me in the chest and I stumbled backwards, my backpack pressed against the lockers. "Hey, why did you do that for?" I asked. "Because I know you," said the tall guy. "You're one of those private school dorks. What are you doing in our school?" "Uh, well, it's because some of us private school kids are having a special program where we visit public schools to...uh...see what public school kids' lives are like...or something." "Really?" "Uh, yeah," I stammered. "Well, I'll just punch you anyway," said the tall guy. And with that, he socked me right in the stomach. I toppled over and fell on the floor. Luckily, my backpack protected me from bruising my tailbone when I landed. Before I knew it, another girl was standing in front of the tall guy, and it looked like she was scolding him. "Nathan, what are you doing?" she asked. "You know that you're not supposed to violently harm other people in school, be it students or teachers. Now leave this poor guy alone or I'm reporting you to the principal. Do you understand?" "Yes, Leslie. I totally understand." Just then, the bell rang. Everyone immediately ran off to get to class. When everyone else left, I saw a nice-looking girl come forward and bend down next to me. "Hey, you okay?" she asked gently. "Uh, I think so," I said. "Here, let me help you up," said the girl. The girl helped me climb to my feet. I was a little shaky, but I was all right. We walked in silence for a little bit, before the girl asked, "So, what'd you do to tick Nathan off?" "That stupid guy? I have no idea," I said, shaking my head. "I just couldn't find my class, so I asked this weird girl if she could..." "Leslie isn't weird," said the girl, sounding a bit defensive. "So let me guess—you were just talking to Leslie, and Nathan went ballistic on you?" "Exactly! He wasn't really friendly to me." "Yeah...Nathan's been like that a lot lately," grumbled the girl, shaking her head. "He really doesn't like kids from private school, especially Park Avenue Academy." "Private school? I go to private school, too!" "Really?" "Yeah, kinda weird, huh?" "Well, I don't think it's weird." "You don't?" "No. I think private school life is really interesting. Sometimes, I wish I was a student at Park Avenue Academy to see what it was like. I want to see what the classes are like, what students do, and...you know, something like that. I bet that private school is fancy and luxurious." "Whoa..." I said. "Well, I always wanted to see what public school was like. And speaking of classes, that reminds me, I'm supposed to be in English class right now..." The girl laughed. "That actually makes a lot of sense," she mused. "You're new here, aren't you? Which private school did you transfer from?" "Huh? Oh—Park Avenue Academy," I said. "You know, the one three blocks way from this school? It's really huge. It's like a castle. Inside the school, there are glass cases everywhere, filled from top to bottom with piles of trophies. There are murals painted on the walls and mobiles hanging from the ceiling. There's even a skylight. And right in the middle of the lobby, on a huge pedestal, there's our school's mascot. The drinking fountains all have motion sensors. The auditorium has movie theater-style seats that recline. There's a rec room for kids to use during free periods. It has stuff like a ping-pong table and a vending machine. Outside the school, there's a garden, a fountain, and even horse stables. I tell ya, it's quite a place." "Wow," said the girl. "It does sound like quite a place. But tell me, have you ever been to public school before?" "No, not really." I said. "But this is my first time here. The teachers at Park Avenue agreed to let me spend a week here and see what it's like. So far, I kinda like it. But I sure hope I'll get to my next class in time. My dad won't like it if I get to his class and I'm tardy." "Your dad's class? Is he a teacher here?" "Yeah. He's a science teacher." "Science? You mean Mr. Patterson, don't you?" "Yeah." The girl laughed again. "Oh, wow, that's so weird. I mean—I can just sort of see the resemblance is all, now that you mention it. He's one of my favorite teachers." "Really?" That fact made me sort of excited. "Yeah. I mean, he can be kind of gruff sometimes...er, no offense. I'm not sure if he really likes me, though." "Huh? Why not?" I asked. "Well, I...sort of set his shirt on fire once. I'm...kind of clumsy sometimes. Anyway..." she said, quickly changing the topic. "When do you have his class?" "Um, fourth period, I suppose." "Me too." "So, uh, do you know where Mr. Whitcomb's class is?" "I sure do," said the girl, pointing toward the hall. "Room 274, south of Room 280." "Okay, thanks." "You're welcome, um, I'm sorry, but I don't think I caught your name." "It's Alfred. Alfred Patterson." "Well, I'm Sara Fitzgerald. See you fourth period, Alfred." "Okay." She smiled at me before she turned and strolled back down the hall toward her class. So, after meeting Sara, I made a few friends and learned some pretty cool stuff. I think I might get used to how public schools are more simple compared to private school. Maybe public school won't be so bad after all. Category:Stories Category:Short Stories